


I will find some other way to tell you

by ConcentratedMatter



Category: Rusty Quill Gaming (Podcast)
Genre: 147 missing scene, Canon-Typical Injuries, Gen, post-battle emotions and hugs, this is 99 percent Azu & Hamid and the others are in the background
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-22
Updated: 2020-02-22
Packaged: 2021-02-28 08:34:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,242
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22847275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ConcentratedMatter/pseuds/ConcentratedMatter
Summary: Another fic to add to the post-147 cuddle pile!
Relationships: Hamid Saleh Haroun al-Tahan & Azu
Comments: 16
Kudos: 44





	I will find some other way to tell you

The claw rakes across the front of her chest, denting the armour and catching her shoulder and neck as she nearly clatters to the ground, grunting. Pain races up her arm and down her body, and her head is swimming with dizzying overlapping images as the giant machine looms over her. There’s two now - no three - she shakes her head as she heaves herself back up, raising her ax in her hands, the reassuring hum of Aphrodite calling to her through its soft vibrations. 

She focuses on that part of herself, the part that believes with unshattering devotion that the thing before her is evil and that she will smite it where it stands with her goddess to guide her. She pushes through the pain and exhaustion and swings forward, bashing the after-images of the giant organ, sparks flying as metal glances off metal. _Again_ , she thinks. And she keeps hitting, until the ax strikes machinery, smashing clockwork and glass and gushing liquids across her hands while the metal _groans._

She barely hears or sees it, only feels the loud thrum of her heart in her ears and the hot blood sticking to the inside of her tunic, trickling down her chest. She looks up in defiance and desperation, barely registering Zolf at her side striking ineffectually with his flaming glaive. She has no time to look for the others. Trusts that they are alright, as long as they are behind her. As long as Shoin is occupied and focused on her. As long as she is here.

_How long will she be able to be here?_

She lets out a growl of anger, ignoring the painful throbbing of her limbs as she raises the ax back up. Faster, she thinks, faster _before he strikes._ If she can kill it before it kills her, it won’t be able to attack the others. As long as she can keep striking it, her friends will be safe _._

Please, Aphrodite, please. She prays, not for herself but for victory, as she watches the machine gear up for a new attack, and she realizes - too late - that she cannot get her strike in before it will crush her. She closes her eyes as her ax swings, whistling through the air with its song full of promises of love and death.

_Please._

And then the inside of her eyelids light up with all the colours of the sun, and there is heat and fire and fury, blazing around the room with a roar that sounds so achingly familiar. 

She reflexively halts her swing, turning away to shield her face. Feels her armour heat up, until she peeks through her eyelids, dazed, at the scene before her, all white hot light and flames. And in the middle, she sees the machine, reaching out towards her. 

(No, not her).

But it fails to grab what it is aiming for as bits of glass explode outwards and the liquid containers sizzle and boil away and the metal groans and machinery melts from the joints, flowing like syrup to the ground. The arm, outstretched, shudders and shrinks, falls apart and scatters on the floor. Yet still the flame comes, until there is nothing left but molten machinery and glowing metal and a fading cry of terrified fury. 

She is dazed, confused, _alive_ \- her face scorched by the heat of the fire. She turns, the room spinning around as the echo of the roar dies away, leaving behind a hollow ringing in her ears that shows no sign of abating. Panicked, she searches, leaning heavily on her ax as the blood flows down from her arm, pooling onto her gauntlets and dripping on the floor. She takes a breath, her ribs aching - broken - and her eyes frantically scan the room, counting people.

Zolf. Cel. 

Skraak.

“Hamid?” She calls, and coughs, her voice hoarse. 

As she clutches the ax for support, she feels a tiny hand wrap around hers and another one carefully reaching up her elbow. 

“Azu! Azu, are you alright?” The voice is unmistakable, rough and high-pitched, concerned, but she cannot see its source. Cannot see him. She blinks, room still spinning, trying to focus as fear still clenches her heart in a vice. 

When she fails to reply, the hand lets go and she cannot see, but she can feel him turn and move away and - 

“Zolf!” 

-she interrupts his call for the cleric as she reflexively reaches out in panic, fearing she’ll lose him if he separates from her. Afraid that he'll disappear and dissolve into the air like a phantom, because maybe this isn’t real. _Maybe he isn’t real._ She catches him by the shoulder, feels the reassuring touch of cloth beneath her fingers and pulls him towards herself. 

She closes her eyes, hearing Aphrodite’s hum in her ears as she lets instinct guide her, falling to her knees to wrap her arms around him. The ax clatters to the ground and in that moment everything she had been holding so carefully inside of her - all the fear and doubt and anxiety - releases from her. She holds him carefully, like a precious treasure, shuddering with relief and exhaustion. She nearly sobs, breathes in the scent of him, all damp cloth and iron and charcoal. And she feels his arms snake around the back of her neck as he buries his face into her shoulder. 

“Oh, _Azu._ ”

Hamid’s breath beats hot against her neck while they embrace, emotions flickering like static between them, until all echoes of the battle are wiped from her mind. Until she can finally hear over the frantic thumping of her chest and ringing in her ears. Until she can finally allow herself to feel again as both their breathing evens out and she feels grounded and secure. She relaxes her grip somewhat, and feels Hamid pull back as she opens her eyes. 

And there he is, all flushed with heat and emotion, eyes wide and brimming with tears as he looks up at her, a smear of her blood on his cheek. But unharmed. _Safe._

She has never seen a more beautiful sight. 

He reaches up in awe, cupping her face in one soft hand, and she lowers her forehead against his in reverence, thanking Aphrodite. He closes his eyes, tears spilling down his cheek, as he stumbles to find the right words, whispering a mantra of nonsense that she cannot make sense of.

“I’m so sorry” and “I was so scared” and “You did it, Azu” and “I’m so proud” and 

"I love you."

That last one she understands, at least. She knows love. She wraps her arms around him again as her armour glows. He stops his babbling, and there is a moment of silence as he exhales slowly into her shoulder, smouldering like fire in her arms. And then he whispers in barely concealed disbelief: 

“You’re _okay._ ”

His hair rubs against her cheek as she leans her head on top of his and looks into the room. Sees Cel settle back on the ground and run over to Zolf, enveloping him in a hug before the dwarf can protest. He pats them on the back before pulling back to check their injuries, reaching out as divine magic flows from his fingertips into the half-elf’s arm. He makes a comment, and Cel laughs, and behind them, up on the walkway, Skraak waves at them. 

Azu smiles into Hamid’s curls. 

“We’re all okay.”

\--

**Author's Note:**

> The title is from the song 'I Have Never Loved Someone' by My Brightest Diamond, which ends with:
> 
> _And if the rain won't wash away  
>  All your aches and pains  
> I will find some other way  
> To tell you_
> 
> _You're okay  
>  You're okay  
> You're okay  
> You're okay_
> 
> (Thank you Charlie!)


End file.
